Triple Threat
by korel.c
Summary: Entirely crack-based; three unrelated oneshots, all gift!fic for C, who is an avid Kurt!shipper. Puck/Kurt, Kurt/Brittany; weird, I know; and Kurt/Puck/Brittany. M for sex.
1. The Popularity Dance

**a/n: Puck is ooc. I apologise. This was a gift!fic for a friend, who wanted Puck/Kurt relationship, first time relationship being exposed in school. so I wrote that. I skipped over the Puck is repulsive to Kurt part. and other stuff. Pretend it's crack!fic. Because it is. It also don't belong to me.**

His fingers.

Puck wonders how any boy can have such small fingers, small fingers and gentle fingers.

When he wonders at all. He doesn't wonder too often.

He's too happy by the fact that unlike all of his past girlfriends (of which he has had many), Kurt puts out. Constantly. Easily. He doesn't have to beg, bribe, take, cajole them into giving him a blow, a handjob - he just has to ask. (He doesn't -give- any. He's never had any desire in taking a cock in his mouth. Or up his ass. Definitely not the latter.)

Oh, and Kurt doesn't mind if he does take him hard, hard and the voice, his boy's voice, humming and singing and breathy. Like a girl's, but not, the consonants falling from his lips, the sounds whispering through their linked bodies. Rhythm is the only part of music he likes. But rhythm is fucking awesome.

Puck rolls his shoulders around and stretches. Today will be a good day.

Today, he's seeing Kurt.

...And the glee club.

...Crap.

* * *

His hands.

Kurt wonders how any boy can have such large hands. Large hands and callused hands, hands that should be rough when grabbing his shoulders and kissing him roughly - but aren't. His hands aren't gentle by any stretch of the imagination - but they don't bruise, either, even when Kurt thinks they will, when he's slammed up against a locker (but not in the way that he's used to) - nothing bruises. Nothing to prove, except the sensation and the passion, the full force of his fury.

Kurt smiles and bites his lip, lying back in bed. He remembers Puck biting his neck, biting and licking and moving down to his shoulder. The arrogance in his voice, the arrogance in his assumption, the confidence in his manner, the confidence with the way his hands and hips move and - oh -

Kurt rocks against his bedsheet, and can't hide his grin. Only Puck can give him a smile and an erection, at the same time.

Gods above. He'll be seeing Puck today. Their paths don't always cross - it's not wise to advertise their relationship to the world, after all...but it's glee club day. Their first glee club...together, after the holidays. When Puck finally said yes, it felt so unbelievably good. But not as good as it is to kiss him. Kurt wriggles, before he slides his bare feet out of bed and pads gingerly toward his bathroom. Better brush his teeth. He doesn't have bad breath normally but he doesn't want to kiss Puck tasting like garlic. Or fish.

* * *

(Kurt doesn't know, but if Puck tasted fish in Kurt's mouth he wouldn't mind too much. He'd be surprised, but...Puck's tasted much worse, in between other lips.)

(Rotten fish. Gyahh.)

* * *

"Hey, fag," Scott McConaugh says, slamming Puck into a wall, and Puck shoves him back.

"Fag yourself," Puck hisses through his teeth. "I would have slept with your mother, but _you_ have two dads and no mommy."

McConaugh goes pale. "Shut up," he says. It's a sore spot. Puck knows it - he will occasionally feel bad about taking digs at McConaugh's dead mother, but not today.

"Hey, I heard you dipped your wick in Hummel's ass," the new quarterback says with a sneer as he walks past. He's not so tough. Even Hudson could handle himself in a fight. Unlike this guy. Puck picks him up by the scruff of the neck and throws him through the open door into the girls' toilet.

"Heard _you_ fucked Cori Russett. Do the police know how old she is? Fourteen, wasn't she?"

There is only silence from the toilet.

Puck walks on, satisfied. He's still the undeniable badass in school.

"Hey, Puck," Santana says as she walks past. Puck rubs his eyes and waves at her, dismissively. Santana probably knows. And doesn't care - they've done worse, after all. And she and Brittany have a ... unique relationship.

The corner of his lips turn up. Oh hell yeah, he's been in the middle of that uniqueness before. Best relationship. Hands down.

...Well...

Secretly, he thinks maybe his and Kurt's is better. But only because of the sex.

Even more secretly, he knows it's the way Kurt lights up when he sees him, and not Finn Hudson, the jackass.

Even more secretly, it's just the way Kurt lights up.

He's too jaded to admit any of this to himself, because if he does it'll be like admitting that Noah Puckerman is actually his name, and that he's actually not that confident after all. He doesn't need Kurt.

Secretly. He does.

But if one more idiot stops him in the hallway to tell him that he fucked Kurt, he's going to show them exactly how far Kurt's willing to let him go. Unlike their pinched, whiny girlfriends in the Abstinence Club.

"Hey, Puck, does Hummel hum when you fuck his mouth?"

That...that wasn't even...

That was...that was...

What the fuck.

"Okay. Seriously? All of you, listen up!"

The entire hallway stills.

"I _am _dating Kurt Hummel. Yes, he lets me put it in him. Yes, he's a fucking good lay. Now shut up and leave me alone!" A beat.

"And if anyone throws a slushie in his face you're going to have very, very big issues! Like how to eat without teeth! Got it?"

The hallway is silent. When Puck slams through the door to head down the staircase, he can already hear the chattering begin.

He clenches his fist. So much for announcing it quietly in glee club.

* * *

Kurt walks down the hallway, nervously brushing his hair with his fingers. He's arrived late to school today, and wonders why everyone's giving him funny looks. But glee club's at the end of today, and everything else pales according to that.

Across the room, Scott McConaugh looks at him, then looks away with a sneer on his face. Kurt's got a boyfriend now, but he can still appreciate good-looking boys. And McConaugh doesn't look that good with that sneer. He should smile more often!

And wear more of those tight shirts.

Those looked good on him. Kurt nods, and places his eyes back on his English.

It's Biology next period. He doesn't have Puck in his class, but he knows anatomy really ... really really well.

Kurt smiles.

The bell rings and Kurt packs up his books at blinding speed, mind already plotting out quickest routes of how to get down to his Science classroom without looking like he's hurrying. It's almost a guaranteed that he's going to get slushied today. It's glee club day and all the footballers know it.

He's brave but he's also smart. Too many years of being bullied makes him keep his head down. And he knows the school like the back of his hand. That helps.

He walks out the door...and freezes.

"Puck?" he asks, his eyes wide. He almost drops the books he's clutching to his chest. "What are you doing here?"

Puck clears his throat and unclenches his fist. Puck's eyes bore into him and Kurt can read worry in his expression, quickly masked by brash confidence. The worry worries _him._

Puck shrugs. "Escorting you to your next class."

Kurt stares. His throat works, but he can't seem to get it to work. "Puck? I thought we decided that we weren't going to tell anyone?"

Puck swallows. Kurt follows the movement of his throat with his eyes, unable to break his gaze. "Screw them. You're mine."

"Oh," Kurt says. He looks up finally to meet his boyfriend's eyes. "I'd like that then."

He walks off towards Biology, still taking the quickest route.

"No, this way," Puck says, steering him with a hand on his back, towards the route he never takes. It's the longest, most exposed route to Biology.

Kurt looks back, biting his lip. Even with Puck there, he's not sure this is a good move...

"It'll be alright," Puck says, quietly, and Kurt nods. He nods faster, and then strikes out through the door. No one will ever be able to say that Kurt Hummel backed down like a girl. He might be gay, he might be effeminate, but he's not cowardly.

He feels Puck lace his fingers through his, and nearly drops his books in surprise. Puck? Initating physical affection?

He almost looks out the window to see if there are pigs flying or Finn wearing designer apparel, but doesn't because he's through the door and everybody's staring, now.

* * *

Noah Puckerman ran off the tracks a long time ago. Puck took his place, a bad boy in everything he could think of. The best, and most fuckawesome bad boy, ever.

But Noah peeks out from under Puck, whenever he looks at Kurt, with that joy and absolute trust on his face. Peeks - but no more than that. He's in public.

Puck smirks a little.

McConaugh walks by. His eyes glance down at their interlinked hands, and his eyes flick up again. Puck gives everyone the finger.

Noah smiles. It's not Puck's smirk - it's a genuine smile.

At the end of that corridor, he shakes loose from Kurt. Puck only has time to register Kurt's shocked, hurt, then faux-unsurprised look, and then Noah registers Kurt's bright happy look as he slams his boyfriend against a locker (in the good way) and kisses him.

When the break, Noah is in his body now, and Kurt's eyes are glistening with light. "Hi," his boyfriend whispers, his fingers gentle on his back, and Noah kisses him again.

Noah knows that everyone's staring, but Puck will take care of it, afterward.

Kurt snuggles into his boyfriend's shoulder, basking in the feeling of safety. Puck is muscle; some fat as well, but chiselled for all that. His own build is dwarfed by Puck's frame, and he runs his hands down Puck's back, biting his lip. A moment later, Puck - no, Noah - bites his lip for him, and they're kissing again and it's gorgeous and perfect and he would breathe deeply, just taking in his scent but he needs that air to keep kissing Noah and so he won't won't won't.

Finally though, he pushes Puck away. "Puck," he says firmly, putting a finger to his boyfriend's lips. "No. I've got to get to Biology."

"Screw Biology," Puck says, his eyes glittering with lust, and Kurt finds his lips curling up in a smile. His loins are burning as well, and his entire body is vibrating a little.

"Um," he says. "Sometimes biology can be..." he leans back against the locker, bounded by Puck's arms on either side of him, and sucks the tip of his finger into his mouth. "Very useful to know."

He thinks Puck has stopped breathing.

That's really cool.

Kurt slips out from under Puck's sudden petrification and heads off down the route to Bio, laughing all the way.

"I'll see you at recess!" Puck yells when he unfreezes, by which time Kurt's apologized to his teacher and sat down.

* * *

The final bell rings and Kurt runs directly into Puck as he comes out of Spanish.

"Hi," Kurt says. "Ready for glee club?"

"Oh, hell yeah I'm ready," Puck says, and takes Kurt's hand with his. He lifts it to his lips and kisses his hand gently. Kurt has to cover his lips with his other hand. Noah's so romantic, he could just swoon.

"Let's go then."

All around them the flood of people racing for the front gates swirl, but neither Kurt nor Puck pay them any attention.

Puck slides the door of the club open and gestures for Kurt to go in first, which he does.

Puck admires Kurt's ass.

Very fine ass.

Very, very fine ass.

Puck looks away for a moment, and steps in himself. He freezes in the doorway.

Every single one of the glee club people is looking at him with wide grins on their faces. Even Hudson. And Quinn.

"What?" he asks, suddenly self-conscious. "Do I have something on my pants?" He looks down, just in case.

"Thank you," Mercedes breathes from the top row, and scurries down to hug him. He takes it with genuine surprise.

Finn watches him, steadiness in every movement. He's reliable, Finn Hudson. Was, in the football team, too - gah, now he's getting girly.

Quinn only smiles.

Mr Schuester comes in behind him, and claps his hands to begin. To both his surprise and Puck's the rest of the glee club begin to applaud as well.

Puck has no problems accepting the applause, but the look on Kurt's face is worth more than any accolade.

The look on Kurt's face when Puck takes the seat beside him and laces his fingers through Kurt's gentle ones outshines that first look by very, very far.

Kurt doesn't let go of Puck's large hands, even when he gets up to do his assignment for the week.

"And what are you going to sing, Kurt?"

"Mr Schuester, even though I had prepared something earlier this week - and though I despise that show otherwise - I would like to sing "Breaking Free", from Disney's High School Musical."

Even though the groans that amass match his - and even Puck's beside him - that's the only, perfect song, that he can find to describe what he's feeling, now and forever.


	2. Take Two And Call Me In The Morning

"Just try it. You'll feel better." Brittany is on her knees in front of him, in the cheerleader uniform that does nothing for him. He sits back and crosses his legs, putting one leg over the other the way he's practiced.

"I don't know," he says, his voice cracking. "Um, shouldn't that be my line?"

"No?" Brittany says, her voice low and something else that he can't describe, because if he was a girl (and he doesn't want to be, even though it would be _easier_), because if he were a girl he would be a very goody-two-shoes kind of girl, kind of like Rachel, but with less ego, okay maybe just about the same amount of ego, he _still _wouldn't be able to match that tone of voice.

He's not quite sure what he was thinking.

Oh, except that if Puck or Finn said something to him in that tone of voice he would have jumped them immediately.

He thinks that's kind of why it's working now. Thinking about Puck - or Finn - so separate, but so so delicious - he licks his lips, and his penis twinges a little bit.

"Um," he says, and leans back into the back of the chair. "Are you sure?"

Brittany licks her lips. Kurt watches that, and immediately licks her lips too.

"Won't you feel strange?" Kurt says. "I mean, I'm not like other guys. I'm, gay, you know?"

Brittany makes a gesture with her shoulders that's half a shrug. Kurt notes that it makes her breasts move. It's a very good move in terms of attracting guys. He knows what attracts guys. He just can't attract them. He has a penis.

"So'm I," Brittany says. "Sometimes anyway."

"Oh," Kurt says. "Well...I mean...I knew that."

He does. But sometimes, and he doesn't like admitting this even to himself, Kurt can be a smidgeon self-absorbed. He thinks that Brittany - and Santana - have a more normal life, and so he doesn't think of what their relationship actually means.

Maybe he does have the same ego as Rachel. The same self-indulgent self-absorption.

He shudders.

"It won't be that bad," Brittany promises. "Just try it."

"Um," Kurt says, furrowing his brow. On the one hand, he's not at all attracted to her. She doesn't have a penis.

His penis twinges.

On the other...crude as it is, a blowjob is a blowjob, right? If he pretends that it's Finn Hudson on his knees in front of him instead, looking at him with those gorgeous eyes and soft hair he can run his hands through -

Ooh, there went his penis.

"You do want to!" Brittany says, and brings her hands to cover his knees.

He covers her hands with his, noting that her hands are rougher than his are. But she has longer nails. That makes up for things.

"Well...are you sure?"

Brittany looks at him.

He looks back.

She nods, her hair moving in its ponytail, and she moves his legs apart. She undoes his belt buckle and his zipper with her teeth, and takes his flaccid penis out with her tongue alone, sucking it into her mouth.

Kurt groans. He thinks of Finn, and instantly his penis gets hard, the tip of it brushing the roof of her hot, hot mouth. She starts sucking on it, her tongue waving around the tip, and he ignores the fact that her lips are soft around the base of his penis, where Finn's or Puck's would be rough and chapped. He closes his eyes and spreads his legs wider so that she can get better access.

"You're so big," she whispers, and even Kurt can't help but get a slight boost in his ego. He would have, from anyone, he knows - but if it had been said in tones of slight penis jealousy he would've had a great deal more reaction.

Kurt smiles. "Thank you," he says, his voice rising in a kind of squeak as Brittany chooses that moment to begin sucking, bobbing her head up and down his cock.

(He's not attracted to girls, at all, but this is feeling, and if he pretends that Puck is between his legs, his body all muscle and his hands coming up to caress his thighs then he's definitely attracted to the sensations)

(But he's also not experienced.)

Brittany sneaks a gaze up at Kurt. Kurt matches her eyes for the three more movements she makes down his shaft before his eyes have to close in his orgasm.

He keens. Not grunts, like Puck did, or Finn's silence, but keens as though he were Santana just on the edge. Without the edge of gasping and panting, but clear and pure.

Clean.

Kurt looks Brittany in the eye as she swallows.

Then she withdraws, and does his pants up again. With his penis tucked safely away, he can only watch her with his chest heaving, his throat trying to work.

"Thanks," she whispers. "I've missed that. And you tasted really good."

She smiles, then licks the corner of her lip. "Missed some."

Kurt gasps a little. "I try to stay on a strict diet."

"You know oranges are just gay lemons, right?" Brittany says. "My grandma gave us a whole basket once. They were really sweet."

Kurt furrows his eyebrows.

"I tasted myself after that. I tasted really good. Do you eat lemons?"

"Um, no," Kurt says, biting his lip. "I do really like mandarins, though."

She smiles. "Those, too! So little, and then you can eat them in one go, and they're still healthy!"

Kurt smiles. He can't help it. He smiles a lot anyway, but the way she's acting is contagious.

"Kiss me?"

Then Brittany dives on him.

And then his father walks in.

* * *

"Excuse me, dad, but we're having intimate sexual relations."


	3. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings

_Throw off your bonds and your shackles, ye bonny lee gentlemen!_  
_Fair fie fo winds, the winds, the winds of change!_

_

* * *

_Puck is a badass. He is the most badass man to ever have walked the streets of town, ever and forever and ever. He doesn't need anyone with him, because he is kick-ass. He'll misbehave whenever and wherever he wants, and nobody can stop him.

"What. Are you doing here?" Puck watches them through the glass, his cheery orange uniform at odds with his scowl. "I thought I told you to stay away."

"I'm sorry," Kurt assures him, one hand on the glass. "I'm so sorry. For everything."

His rep is suffering now, Puck knows. He's not as tough as some of the other inmates, and now that his cellmates knows he's a bum-boy, he's going to be in for a rough year.

"Honestly. I didn't mean to sleep with Brittany."

"You SLEPT WITH BRITTANY?"

His boyfriend slept with Brittany?

...His first thought is that, well, good, now his cellmates won't think he's gay. His second thought is, when and why would Kurt sleep with Brittany?

"It just happened!" Kurt insists. "Just, I'm sleeping, missing you..."

And...back to being the bum-boy...Puck sighs, and matches Kurt's hand with his. If he's going to be taken advantage of, he's going to take advantage of Kurt being here.

"And she falls into bed, and she puts her hand between my legs and starts stroking me! I didn't know what to think, Puck, but you know, I had to return the favor."

Puck whimpers softly under his breath, thinking of his boyfriend fingering Brittany, his fingers slipping into her slit, pushing into it. His boyfriend's cock, being sucked and licked by that talented tongue, her mouth, her breath and her suction...

His phone rings. "Oh, wait. Brittany said she was coming through."

Doesn't Kurt know that he's excruciatingly loud?

Dear god.

Kurt drops his voice into a whisper - or what counts as whispering for him. It's still a stage whisper, and loud even among all the other conversations, that are coming to a slow, shocked, stop.

"Anyway, I'm so sorry, Puck. She was grinding on me, and she put my penis into her vagina! And then she did this thing with her hips..." he trails off, and Puck shudders, trying to conceal a hard-on under the desk. He notes absently that the black boy down the hall from him, two cells down and to the right, is almost absent-mindedly concealing a hard-on because of what Kurt is saying, since he's not in jail for sexual assault and that's most likely his mother talking to him.

"Yes?" Puck asks, then has to clear his throat and ask again. "What did she do?"

His cellmate from the bunk above him is looking at him and Kurt now, unimaginably lustful. This man _did_ come into jail for sexual assault - rape, actually - and quite frankly at the moment Puck's kind of into forcing somebody to talk. Kurt, in this instant, since he's still hesitating.

"I don't even know," Kurt says, boyish and confused. "Maybe she can explain it better to you?"

"What?" Then Puck remembers: She's coming.

"When is she going to get here?"

"Soon," Kurt says. "But, I haven't even told you what she did with her fingers!"

The entire room takes a breath. It's half full of incredibly horny men who haven't seen their women in a long time, and half full of family members who are horribly shocked.

"She put them in her, her..." he whispers this now, boyish and secretive, "_Vagina_, and then she licked them."

Billy Deverson, 19 years old, arrested for battery and burglary, and trying to evade justice, is jerking off in his chair. The girl across him - probably his sister - is trying to ignore what he's doing. Puck watches him, only for a second, knowing that if he drew Kurt's attention to what he's watching, he's certain to go back to being a bum-boy for sure, because Kurt's staring would cement his position. As it is, every man there only thinks Puck's 'friend' is an inexperienced virgin, but lucky as all get out.

"And then she opened this pornographic magazine, and leant her head back and pulled out a couple of things... she said to show you these pictures," and Kurt opens his phone.

Puck is absolutely dizzy by now, but he still leans forward, pressing his face to the glass. He's not crazy - anything that can go into his spankbank - and be legitimate in a jail full of men - is a treasure without price.

He ignores everyone else trying to get a glimpse at the pictures.

Good goddamn. Brittany is just as smoking as she was in high school. And what she's doing with that cucumber...and the banana...and the lollipop...and the teddy bear...and the alarm clock...that's probably illegal in twenty-five states.

He's there for an awfully long time, just gesturing for Kurt to flick to the next picture.

Kurt shrugs. "She said you'd like it."

"I do," Puck chokes out. Bum-boy prospect...fading! "Tell her...thanks from me."

Kurt's face lights up. "She'll love that."

"And...thanks, Kurt."

Kurt's face is absolutely radiant. "That means so much to me," he breathes down the phone, and Puck can't help but smile.

"I know," he says.

"So you don't mind?"

"Mind what?"

"That Brittany wants us both to become her boyfriends?"

His heart stops.

The entire room stops.

The entire fucking world stops.

Kurt begins to babble now. "Uh, she said, if you agree, there'll be benefits, I don't know what the benefits are, but she said, she'll let you put it anywhere, anytime, and I'm not sure that's a wise thing, and besides, I wo-"

"Stop," Puck says in a rush, because Kurt is about to babble something that'll make him bum-boy for life, lucky-ass bastard or not.

"Of course I will."

And the whole room breathes out again in complete jealousy, and Puck can't help but throw his head back and laugh.

A commotion at the door startles them both, and they look up. Brittany's at the door.

"Puck?" Kurt says, this time very quiet. "I'll see you later?"

"Yeah, sure." He acts dismissive, but he knows that Kurt takes more from it than other people might think.

Brittany walks toward him. He thinks his cock might lift him out of his seat, like a third, springy, leg.

"Hi," she says. "So Kurt was telling you about what I did?" She leans in to him, her face pressed up against the glass, and Puck is uncomfortably aware that the entire room is watching him now. "I'll be waiting for you when you get out."

Oh shit.

Noah Puckerman is going to be a good little boy now.

* * *

"You are one lucky sonuva bitch," Billy says to him as they're hustled back by the guards.

Puck takes a look at one of them. Their thoughts are occupied. They're probably going to jerk off at home with their wives next to them. Puck grins. Hell yeah. Six months of good behavior, and he's taking Brittany from above, and Kurt from behind. Life is going to be goood.

When he gets back to his cell, his cellmate looks at him steadily, then looks away.

The man grunts, and gets into his bed, and Puck falls onto his bunk, breathing hard. He's not that strong, not in here, but hells to the yeah.

When he gets the posters...and the undeniably pornographic images that Kurt's managed to sew in between them, he's suddenly the talk of the jail. The popular talk of the jail.

He manages to escape being raped by trading pictures of Brittany away.

He owes her, so much.

Kurt's accounts of what Brittany and he do are spellbinding to the inmates, too, and almost everyone jostles to get a place in the room when Kurt comes to visit. It's his absolute inexperience that gets everyone.

Puck would laugh at how much the jail resembles a gossip center for a bunch of old drag queens, if he didn't like his asshole as it was, thank you very much.

Oh, that and the fact that he was going to be free in three months and banging his boyfriend and girlfriend for a MONTH.


End file.
